


What Monsters are Made of

by Thenerdintheattic



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Heavy Angst, Hurt, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Reiner is a Mess, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 09:44:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15507441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thenerdintheattic/pseuds/Thenerdintheattic
Summary: Set right after Season 2. Reiner, Bertholdt, and Ymir have fought their way to wall Maria. They have a couple of hours to rest before Zeke joins them and as Ymir and Bertholdt go to sleep, Reiner's old demons make a comeback.





	What Monsters are Made of

**Author's Note:**

> Reiner, I'm so sorry.

The sky was clear. The moon was shining, colouring the heavenly vault with a romantic hue. Or gloomy, depending on your state of mind. Bertholdt and Ymir were asleep further away, lying down directly on the cold stones of the wall, too tired to care about comfort. Reiner had pretended he needed to be on his own and had walked away until the other two were no more than shapeless forms in the distance. He had sat down, legs hanging in the emptiness beneath him.

He stared down. A pair of titans had gathered there; one of them looked up at him, right in the eyes. Reiner looked at that face, this dark hair and deformed head, the naked body and the aching soul, driven only by this need to eat. His mouth started to twitch and soon, he couldn't prevent his tears from filling his eyes and running silently on his cheeks.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

He leaned forward, just a bit more. The wall was fifty metres high. The fall would be quick though. Almost painless. His chance of survival would be increased by his ability to regenerate his body. If he decided to. But even if he did, he wouldn't be able to prevent those guys down there from devouring him. He would hope it would be the one starring at him with those big sad eyes. The poor devil would turn human again. His time in hell would be over until he realised the real nightmare had just begun. Reiner turned his head towards the shape that he believed to be Ymir. He should have been the one she had devoured, not Marcel. He should have been the one to die. He should have been the one to be captured. He briefly closed his eyes, clenched his jaws and looked away.

He didn't deserve a quick death. The memory of being on another wall, not so long ago, came back to his mind. Confessing his true nature to Eren. Mikasa cutting his arm off. Fighting. Running. Talking. Losing. It made him dizzy. Zeke would join them in a few hours. Reiner would be held responsible for the failure of their mission. He would lose the armoured titan as well as his life. It was only fitted after all. He had failed. He wasn't even a warrior anymore, he wasn't a soldier either. Eren was right. He was a murderer, a traitor, a monster.

His stomach twisted in pain, he bent forward, panting, and tried to throw up. But nothing came up. When was the last time he had eaten something? A lifetime ago. He wasn't hungry. He should have been. He was always starving after turning into his titan form, the amount of energy required was huge. But he was too tired to be hungry. He was tired of losing, tired of fighting. Just tired. He wiped his eyes. He hadn't noticed he'd still been crying but he was done being weak. He was done being a loser. It was time to take things into his own hands, do what he should have done ages ago. He was already half dead anyway. He would be completely in a couple of hours. If he wasn't devoured by a titan, the power of the armoured titan would appear in a baby – Marley would be deprived of their best weapon for years. Yes. He wasn't going to make things easy for them. Marley had made him the weeping piece of shit he was now, their lies, their hate, their contempt. His father was Marley. A strangled laugh escaped his throat. They could all rot in hell for what he cared.

A flash of light attracted his attention. The moon, reflected in the small blade he had taken from his vertical manoeuvre gear, seemed to call for him. He took the blade in his hands and looked at it for a long time. It felt warm in his hands, it was comforting. Like an old friend.

It wasn't his first time.

♣♣♣

It had started on a perfectly normal evening. The boys had been gathered in their dorm after a long, warm day of training, chatting and laughing. The atmosphere had been light, all of them has been relaxed, even Jean and Eren had been civil with each other, an occurrence rare enough to be noted and appreciated. Bertholdt and Connie had talked about their dreams once the world would be rid of the titans and the kind of life they would like to have. Reiner had listened. First, he had wondered how his friend was capable of lying so easily, Bertholdt had even been able to smile as he had described his perfect house. Then Reiner had understood that he wasn't lying. Not entirely. Only, his perfect life wouldn't start when all the titans were wiped out, just when all the people in this room would be dead.

Reiner had been surprised at himself when he had jumped into the conversation. It'd been awkward at first – he had no idea of what he wanted, besides destroying the Eldian demons, and he had had to make things up as he was going. After his hesitation had passed, though, he had quite enjoyed it, he'd even made promises to stay in touch with those guys if they survived. Because they were brothers in arms, soldiers. And he had believed it. For a crazy second, he had believed it. It had made him sick to his stomach. He'd left the room in a hurry and run to the bathroom. He'd thrown up and cried – for one second, he had believed it. He had been Reiner Braun, from a small village south of Wall Maria, he'd been a soldier and the peace he'd felt during that second was scarier than anything he'd encountered before. He had cried for a long time, kneeling on the floor, his face centimetres above the toilet seat, repeating _“I'm a warrior, I'm a warrior, I'm a warrior.”_ under his breath without interruption. It had been so difficult to arrive there, to achieve his goal, he couldn't just throw all his hard work through the window. He was a warrior, the armoured titan. Yes, he had reached his goal but the taste of his victory was bitter. His father didn't want him. His family would never be together again. It had been all in vain.

No.

He had risen to his feet, leaning on the wall for support. No. The man could go to hell, it hadn't been in vain. He would make Marley proud, he would be the one retrieving the original titan, he would be a hero.

He had spent the rest of the evening in some sort of secondary state, his body numb, his mind clouded by fear and shame. He couldn't tell Bertholdt, let alone Annie. They wouldn't understand.

_I'm a warrior. I'm a warrior. I'm a warrior._

At dinner that night, he had hidden a knife in his pocket. He hadn't really realised it until he had found it later when he had removed his clothes to go to bed. He had felt it in his pocket, caressing it for several minutes and running his finger on the blade. He hadn't felt the cold of the metal on his skin, no more than he had felt the cut on his digit. Bertholdt had been the one to notice when he had finally removed his hand from his pocket and Reiner had lied to him for the first time. Somehow, deceiving his friend had been more painful than cutting his finger - it had been nothing anyway, barely bleeding. He had left the dorm, telling Bertholdt he needed to use the bathroom. He hadn't lied about his destination but when he had arrived there, he had sat on the floor, first staring at his finger, then putting the knife out of his pocket. He had looked at it first, observing the cold blade and wooden handle, running his finger on it in the hope to feel something. He had cut his finger again, just like before he had felt nothing. Only when the metal had eaten the flesh on his forearm, had he experienced pain. Pain was good. Pain was a reminder.

_I'm a warrior. I'm a warrior. I'm a warrior._

It had started on a perfectly normal evening. Reiner had cut himself for the first time. He had hidden the knife and kept using it, first when he had been thinking of himself as a soldier, then just to punish himself for his weakness. After each of his encounters with the blade, he had healed himself, not to raise suspicion. This was his sad little secret, he had to walk this path alone.

♣♣♣

The night was beautiful. It was the perfect moment to die. Finally, he could just let go, maybe find some peace. No more warriors, no more soldiers, no more pain, no more guilt, no more hate, no more Reiner Braun. He stroked the sharp edge of the blade with his finger. Blood ran, staining the metal, slowly dripping on the wall. He looked up. It was the wall he had breached five years before. It was where it had all started. The place was perfect, too. Everything was coming full circle.

Yet, he couldn't bring himself to it. Kill himself. The thought was appealing, sure, but it was also terrifying. What if it hurts? What if it doesn't stop? What if it's worst after? What about my mother? What about Bertholdt? He groaned in frustration – even at the very end, even when he was about to do the only good thing he'd ever do, he was still a coward. He tightened his grip on the blade. He didn't need to look very far to find the comforting voice, Porco's voice, that had accompanied him since he'd joined the cadet warriors.

_Just do it. You don't deserve to live. You're a failure. No one will mourn you anyway, no one likes you. Your mum, Bertholdt, Ymir, Annie, they will all be better without you. You're a dead weight. Just do it._

He felt tears soak his cheeks again but couldn't care less. No one was there to see him. He inhaled deeply. He stretched his left arm in front of him and looked at his white skin, following the blue track of his veins with his finger. He sliced his wrist a first time and shivered. The flashing pain surprised him but it didn't last. The cut wasn't deep, it barely bled. He began to sob.

_I don't want to live._

He couldn't see properly, but he kept slicing, despite the pain, deeper and deeper and he soon felt a warm sticky liquid coating his forearm. He carried on, more angrily, more violently. Once he had started, it all became so easy. He deserved it, it was the only punishment he would accept. His death would be lonely and painful, it would be miserable just like his whole life had been. He only stopped when he felt too weak to continue. He let the blade fall down the wall and lied down on his back on the edge. Through his tears, he saw the black starry sky and the full moon. He smiled, tried to raise his uninjured arm towards it but couldn't find the strength. Exhaustion washed over him, he shivered. He was cold. But he didn't last long. Soon he couldn't feel anything.

Peace, finally.

He heard a cry, far away. He wanted to sit down to see what it was all about but his body didn't respond. Soon, Bertholdt and Ymir's faces appeared in his visual field.

“You moron! You think I risked my neck to save your sorry ass for you to get all dramatic on me? I don't think so, you bastard!”

Ymir kept insulting him but he stopped listening. He smiled at her as his eyelids were getting heavier. She was worried for him, he could see it in her eyes. That had to be something.

“Heal! Heal yourself! Heal yourself!”

Bertholdt was crying as he was pressing against Reiner's wounds with his hands. It soon got slippery though and Ymir had to rip off the other leg of her trousers. He saw their mouths keep moving – surely they were still shouting at him but he couldn't hear. The last thing he saw was Bertholdt grabbing him by the collar.

He blacked out.

♣♣♣

He dreamt he was naked in the sea. The water was cold and dirty and it could feel it trying to enter his lungs. There was a storm out there and the waves kept submerging him. He was fighting hard to come back to the surface again but he was exhausted and every time, he kept thinking “ _next time I'll drawn_.” He never did. Somehow, he always managed to find his way to the surface, no matter how tired he was.

He woke up abruptly. He was lying down on a hard surface with the moon high in the sky above him. He blinked several times before the pain in his left forearm woke up as well. He moaned and closed his eyes again. It came back to him with the violence of a slap. He remembered escaping by the skin of his teeth and losing Eren, he remembered the blade and the blood and the moon. He was still alive. He didn't have the time to wonder how he felt about that because Ymir's face appeared before his eyes. She was looking angry and tired and a vein was pulsing on her throat. That couldn't be good.

“Yo Bertholdt! He's awake.”

He turned his head to see Bertholdt walk towards them. When he joined them, he stayed up, arms crossed, looking down at Reiner with a dark light in his eyes.

“Thank you, Ymir. Can you leave us now?”

She jumped to her feet but didn't go straight away. She put her hand on Bertholdt's shoulder and squeezed it gently. They shared a strange look, full of implications which made Reiner wonder what they had shared while he was out.

“Just give me a shout if he's being a dramatic idiot again, I'll punch some sense into his brains.”

With a comforting smile, she left and went to sit further away, still close enough to run to Bertholdt's rescue, if need be. What did she imagine? That Reiner would just attack his friend like that or something? A long silence followed. Reiner rose on his right elbow but Bertholdt didn't make a move to come closer to him. He was just staring down at him, his face completely empty of emotions.

“Bertl, I ….”

He stopped. He didn't know how this sentence was supposed to end. Surely, Bertholdt wanted to hear that he was sorry, that he wouldn't do such a thing again. But he couldn't make such a promise. And he wasn't sorry.

“Heal yourself.”

The tone was dry, emotionless. As Bertholdt was towering over him, jaw clenched, his eyes almost inhuman, he looked a lot like the colossal titan. Reiner had never seen his friend act like that. When he was human, Bertholdt was sweet. At that moment, he looked like he could kill him himself if Reiner didn't do as he was told. He found the thought slightly endearing and smiled, provocative.

“No.”

In a fraction of a second, Bertholdt was kneeling next to him, Reiner's injured wrist pressed in his hand. His grip tightened until Reiner groaned in pain, his eyes watering again. Unmoved, Bertholdt kept squeezing.

“Heal yourself.”

Reiner shook his head stubbornly. He could feel Bertholdt's anger, cold and controlled, radiate from his whole body. It was new, it was unexpected and in other circumstances, he could have liked it, but his friend was hurting him badly now and he was starting to be a bit angry too.

“Heal yourself,” Bertholdt repeated.

The next wave of pain almost made him black out again. It was easy. If he was doing what Bertholdt was asking, the pain would just go away. But he couldn't bring himself to it. He wouldn't be coerced into anything. Not when Bertholdt was hurting him, not when he could still fight him. His face contorted by pain, he sat up and pushed Bertholdt away using his valid arm. The tall boy fell on his back and laid in this position for a moment, making Reiner worry that he might have injured him too. But when Bertholdt sat up in front of him, he didn't look angry anymore, he was smiling actually.

Reiner passed his hand on his face. He still felt tired, empty, weak, he was in pain and not only on his arm, and he didn't understand Bertholdt. He let his friend take his hand into his. The contact felt nice, warm and reassuring.

“Reiner.” Bertholdt sounded like his old self again. “For how long have you had those thoughts?”

Reiner looked down. He didn't want to answer, he didn't want Bertholdt to comprehend to what extent he was messed up. He didn't want pity, he just wanted peace.

“You're not alone.” Reiner looked up. “I've been with you since day one, I will always be with you. You can talk to me, you don't have to go through this alone.”

He observed Bertholdt's worried face, guilt eating him from the inside. He was a failure, he was useless, yet it wasn't the worst about him. He was despicable. He had toyed with his friend, he had used him, never giving him anything in exchange.

He'd had feelings for Bertholdt for some time and he knew Bertholdt reciprocated. He had brought him closer to him, only to push him away later. He had made him think there could be something between them before taking it away from him the next morning. And it hadn't been just once either, Reiner had made a habit of crushing his friend's feelings because it was easier this way. He wasn't brave enough to accept these feelings, to risk being rejected, to appear weak in front of the others. He cared dearly about Bertholdt, he even loved him but it wasn't enough to compete with his selfishness.

“How can you say that?”

Bertholdt looked genuinely surprised so Reiner continued :

“After all that I've done to you, I don't deserve you.”

“I'll be the judge of that.”

“Don't you have any self-esteem?”

Bertholdt looked away. Reiner hated that he kept following him no matter what, never making his own decisions. He couldn't comprehend why his friend was acting so weak-willed. He wasn't a coward, Reiner suspected that he might think so, but Bertholdt was anything but a coward. He had his own issues – anxiety was the main and it kept him from putting himself forward. Reiner had figured that much out. But he couldn't understand why Bertholdt remained faithful to him when he was such a failure.

“You're my friend, Reiner. No matter what. I thought you knew that.”

“I do. I just don't understand why you put up with me.”

Bertholdt smiled shyly but didn't give an answer. Reiner would have to figure that one out by himself. They stayed silent, looking at each other. The pain in Reiner's forearm was getting slightly better but a headache was now piecing his brains. For god's sake couldn't he have a break? He massaged his temple with a grimace, in vain. The pain remained. It was probably his punishment for being so weak.

“You know, you might have saved me today, but I'll die soon anyway.”

Bertholdt sighed tiredly. Reiner could see on his face that he was annoyed but couldn't understand why. Well, actually. He did have a lot of reasons to be annoyed, Reiner thought. He just had to pick one.

“They won't take the armoured titan from you, Reiner.”

“I failed.”

“We failed.”

Reiner frowned. No, Bertholdt had not failed. He had done exactly what was expected of him. He would go home and be a hero. Reiner would go home and die. That was only fair after all.

“I'm the one who made all the bad decisions. I mean, come on, Bertholdt, I shouldn't even be here in the first place! You can't possibly believe that Zeke will be thrilled to see me, you can't be that stupid!”

Bertholdt let slide the insult with another sigh and Reiner hated himself a bit more for that. He hadn't wanted to imply that his friend was stupid, but he had to admit that his candour was foolish.

“I never said that,” Bertholdt said calmly. “I said that they won't take the armoured titan from you, I didn't say that you wouldn't have to fight for it.”

Reiner opened his eyes wide. Fight. Prove himself to be worthy. He could have a second chance. Not only at finishing the mission, but also with Bertholdt. He could make it up for him. There was a small drawback though.

“I'm tired of fighting, Bertl.”

Bertholdt smiled and slowly shook his head.

“You proved to me before that you weren't done fighting.”

That's what it had all be about! Pushing him far enough to awake his will to fight. Bertholdt knew him so well, it was a little scary sometimes. Suddenly, he felt a warmth surround his bandaged forearm and knew that the healing process had started. Bertholdt glanced approvingly at the steam that was forming and his grin widened.

“We've been through worse, Reiner. This is nothing compared to all the shit we've seen.”

How had he arrived there? When had he become so weak that ending his own life had been the only choice left to him? When had he stopped fighting? Reiner lowered his head and cried. He barely felt Bertholdt move closer to him and take him into his warm and cup his face to make him look up. Bertholdt wiped his tears away with his thumb and kissed him softly on the mouth before Reiner buried his face in the crook of his neck to let his tears run down his cheeks again.

“I'm sorry, Bertl.”

“It's ok. Besides I should be the one apologising.”

Reiner moved back and tilted his head, confused. Bertholdt bit his lower lips and looked away, his cheeks pink with embarrassment.

"I knew you were ... having troubles." He explained. "But I never confronted you about it. I never did anything to help you and I cannot help but think that if I had, you wouldn't have..."

Reiner interrupted him by squeezing his hand.

"No, Bertholdt. I'm the only one responsible for what happened tonight. You had your own guilt to deal with. And if you had tried to help, I wouldn't have let you. You've got nothing to feel bad about."

Carefully, like Bertholdt was the most fragile thing, Reiner kissed him. He couldn't say he was feeling better, but he understood now that dying would mean that the people he despised the most had won. He couldn't allow that. He was also aware that despite his despicable behaviour, his death would hurt Bertholdt more than anything he'd done to him, and if he couldn't understand it, he cared too much about him to hurt him this way. Bertholdt deserved better, that was still right, and Reiner would never be able to make up for all he had done if he was dead.

"There is still something I don't understand, though." Bertholdt said. "After we lost Eren, when all those titans were on us, why did you keep fighting if you wanted to ..."

Die. Reiner thought this bit was quite clear.

"I couldn't let _you_  be killed."

It was as simple as that.

Reiner knew he would be fine, though. Like Bertholdt had said, he wasn't alone. They would both go home, they would both be heroes and Reiner would keep fighting as long as Bertholdt was with him to remind him that he did have the strength for it.

Reiner Braun was a monster. But he understood now that not all monsters are evil. Some just never had a choice.

**Author's Note:**

> So, if they hadn't died, I'm pretty sure that Bertl and Ymir would have become bff, sharing embarrassing stories about Reiner and Historia and exchanging dating tips (well, mostly Ymir giving advice to a very confused Bertholdt). Also, you can't unconvince me that Ymir would have protected Bertholdt with her huge lesbian energy.


End file.
